


Dean Winchester, Christmas Guru

by lokithegodofsass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Kid Fic, Small kine angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:38:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokithegodofsass/pseuds/lokithegodofsass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house<br/>Not a creature was stirring, not even a… cut the crap, Dean was awake. But his hunter instincts kept him quiet as a mouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Winchester, Christmas Guru

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idkspookystuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkspookystuff/gifts).



> This was a Christmas gift for [Sebastian](http://archiveofourown.org/users/choirboycas/pseuds/choirboycas). Since he thanks me on all of his fics when I don't do shit, I will do the same here.
> 
> Thank you for responding xD to all of my bad jokes and for being there for me to talk to (except when you're asleep or having a life). College is big and scary and I'm not sure what I would've done without you. You're my best friend and I love you.

**December 1988**

_Dear Santa,_

_I’ve been a very good boy this year. Please don’t forget about me again just cause we don’t stay in one place for very long._

_From,_

_Sam W._

Dean had been clearing out the motel, since any minute he would hear the engine of the Impala and have to load up his small bag of clothes, when he found a letter. He was intrigued, even though he could barely make out his five year old brother’s scrawl. Ever since Sam had started kindergarten and been surrounded by kids that weren’t Dean, he began to realize how… well, _un-normal_ … his life was. The other kids in his class haven’t moved “five times this year” and their parents had time to come to their open house. The biggest shock was that the other parents could never fathom leaving their kids alone for days at a time with only their nine brother to watch over them. But this letter almost made him want to cry, and Dean Winchester didn’t waste his time crying.

The worst part was that Dean didn’t have an explanation, or at least one that wouldn’t break Sam’s heart. He couldn’t tell him that their dad had completely forgotten about their first Christmas since his mom died and Dean didn’t want to say anything (of course, he wasn’t saying anything at all at that point in his life but maybe a surprise Christmas could’ve given him enough strength to talk again). He couldn’t tell him that he had stayed up half the night in tears, staring at the empty corner of the motel where a tree could’ve easily fit. 

Dean’s gaze traveled towards the wall of the motel. He was going to give his little brother the proper Christmas he deserved, the one that he didn’t get, even if it killed him.

.

“Please, Dad,” Dean sighed on the phone. Sam always fell asleep at 8:00, like clockwork, and Dean figured that this was the perfect time to try to convince his dad to let them stay in one place until Christmas. “It’s only one more week.”

“Dean, you know how it is,” John Winchester’s voice answered on the phone. “Don’t you want to find this thing and wipe its ugly face off of the goddamn planet?”

“Yeah, dad, I do,” Dean mumbled, pulling open the fridge and finding sandwich meat. “But I just want to do this for Sammy. Please, can we take a break from hunting?” 

“I’m surprised by this,” John’s voice sounded cold and Dean was tempted to just take it all back. “I thought you were more serious about taking this thing out. I can’t have someone that’s half in the game and half thinking about the holidays, you know this. Besides, I thought you didn’t like Christmas.” 

“I don’t,” Dean tried to keep his voice from wavering. He loved Christmas back when his mom was around and they had a tree taller than his dad and Santa brought him gifts and it was a day full of magic. “But Sammy does.”

“We’re leaving the 26th,” John sighed on the line. A grin spread across Dean’s face and, for a moment, the magic came flooding back. “And this all on you, son. I have more important things to take care of.”

.

If Dean was good at one thing, it was arcade games. They usually required the same sharp skills as hunting, which put him at a wonderful advantage. It was amazing how many kids gave up their lunch money for arcade tickets and soon Dean had enough money to buy a small tree. 

The man selling the trees gave him an odd look when he approached the store on his bicycle on Christmas Eve with Sam’s wagon tied to the seat with a fistful of one dollar bills, but Dean didn’t care. He was nice enough to help him load the tree into the wagon and Dean thanked him with a quick nod before cycling off. The sight of a young freckled boy pedaling furiously on a bicycle with a tree filled wagon bouncing behind it was a sight comical enough to turn some drivers’ heads. He kept the tree hidden behind the front desk and the lady working the night shift was kind enough to help him drag it into their room, even though she wore an expression like she swallowed something sour the entire time.

After that, getting the room ready was really quite easy. There was a kid in Sam’s kindergarten class who had an older brother in Dean’s class. The kid was a bit of a loser and desperate for friends, and since Dean was the coolest kid in their grade he nearly wet himself when he started talking to him. They were both beyond spoiled and Dean doubted that their parents would even notice if he lifted a couple of presents for Sam while he was at their place.

Dean stayed up all night on Christmas Eve again, but he wasn’t looking for Santa. No, he was almost ten years old and he knew better by now. He had borrowed (okay, “borrowed” wasn’t the right word but he was planning on giving it back) a hot glue gun from the maintenance guy’s tool box and was trying to put together his own ornaments. Sam had made some in school and kept them hidden under his pillow, since his hopes for Christmas were crushed, but Dean caught him staring longingly at them one night when Sam thought he was getting food. The decorations were a little crushed, but Dean tried his best to restore them to his former glory.

He hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep until his brother started shaking his arm and yelling.

“Dean! Dean!” Sam hadn’t sounded this happy in a long time and, even though Dean wanted to shoot him for waking him up at five in the morning, he still couldn’t help but smile. “Dean! Santa came! And he brought Christmas!”

“I know,” Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes before realizing that he had a paper snowflake stuck to his cheek. “That was me. Santa’s not real, Sammy.” There was no way that Dean would let some fat man with a beard take credit for all of his hard work.

“Oh,” Sam’s face fell for a moment before lighting up once again at the sight of the presents. “You got me presents?!”

“Course I did, squirt,” Dean pulled the snowflake off of his face and unfolded it before he was tackled by a mess of too-large hand me downs and shaggy brown hair.

“You’re the best brother ever,” Sam whispered, his arms tightly wrapped around Dean’s torso. Dean couldn’t help but beam at that, but before he could hug the boy back he was already gone and sorting through his presents. “Which one should I open first?”

 

**December 2015**

“A jar of honey,” Dean raised his eyebrows at Castiel, who was grinning like he had gotten him a car instead of what was in front of him. He chanced a glance at Sam, who was wearing the same perplexed expression.

“I stopped by a bee farm a few weeks back,” Castiel explained, barely able to keep the excitement out of his voice. “They had a station where you could make your own honey.” Clearly, the angel believed that he given them the best gifts on the planet, and the brothers wore identical matching grins as they set their honey down.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean pulled him into a quick hug, Sam echoing his words and movements. Castiel had wanted to celebrate Christmas “like humans do” and Sam and Dean weren’t about to deny him the opportunity. This time, Sam had stayed up with him and helped him decorate a much larger tree. Pool provided him with a much quicker way to earn money and his Impala was much larger than a wagon, even though it would likely smell like evergreen for weeks to come.

“I very much enjoyed spending Christmas with the two of you,” Castiel stated as he sat down with his mug of hot chocolate. He didn’t enjoy the taste of eggnog, but Sam had still kept his tradition of dumping way more liquor than necessary into their drinks. The angel, however, didn’t seem to notice, but Dean could smell the alcohol from his seat.

“And the honey was very thoughtful,” Dean gave him a tiny smile. “Now Sammy had something else to put on his freak peanut butter and banana sandwich.”

“Just because you don’t understand quality food doesn’t mean that the rest of us can’t appreciate it!” Sam defended himself with a huff.

“Fuck you, Sam.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Dean."


End file.
